


A One Time Thing

by Miss_Princess_Blake



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, One Night Stand, Or Is It?, Past Finn Collins/Clarke Griffin, Past Finn Collins/Raven Reyes, Smut, With Feelings?, all of the orgasms, t100ficsforblm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28806585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Princess_Blake/pseuds/Miss_Princess_Blake
Summary: Clarke really hates LA. She always has. But her long-distance boyfriend, Finn, lives there for work so she puts up with it. One day, she decides to surprise him and fly in. Only when she shows up at his door and lets herself in, he is very much not alone. Her solution? Drown her sorrows at the bar of the closest hotel to the airport.As is were, Bellamy has had the same idea. He just helped get his sister moved in with her fiancé, more than a thousand miles from home. When a gorgeous and clearly angry Clarke takes a seat near him, the only other person at the bar, he can’t help himself from talking to her.One thing leads to another. They wind up back in his room and having a great night. The next morning, his bathroom mirror says thanks in the blood-red lipstick she had left on his lips the night before.And that’s obviously the end of their story, right?
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 82
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	A One Time Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for t100fic4blm initiative. Want more of this story? Want me to write something else? You can do that! I am currently open for prompts and for more chapters of ay current WIP's. Want more information? Check out our card [ here! ](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/)

Clarke Griffin fucking hated LA. Even when things were good in her life this city always sucked. Everything felt either too fake or too dirty, including the people. The sky was always infuriatingly blue even in the dead of winter. Everyone drove like an asshole, acted like an asshole, and the whole place just got on Clarke’s last nerve. Even tonight, sitting at the bar of the Embassy Suites hotel near the airport, she was surrounded by everything that was wrong with the city.

The bartender was some perfectly quaffed, fake-tanned, slicked-back hair, too white teeth, douche of a guy who looked like he had just gotten back from his audition to play Ken in a live-action Barbie movie. He smiled his megawatt smile when he slid her a third glass of whiskey and winked when she politely thanked him. When her lack of reaction made it clear she wasn’t interested his smile fell a bit and he went back to the other side of the bar to help some woman with boobs that didn't move when she walked and a face that didn’t move when she laughed. Everything in this city was fake.

With that in mind, she should have been less shocked to find out her boyfriend, Finn Collins, was just as fake as the city he loved so much.

As her phone rang again and she jabbed her finger at the decline button for the millionth time she thought back on her terrible night. Although she supposed, the story really started last year just after New Year’s Eve.

Clarke had finished her master’s degree in art history and museology at the University of Washington. Thanks in part to the incredible connections she had made in school and a bit of bribery from her mom’s new husband, Marcus Kane, she had scored an incredible job at the Seattle Art Museum. For a twenty-five-year-old with no real job history, she knew she had been lucky.

When her boss, Luna, offered her a chance to travel to LA to represent the museum at a charity auction Clarke eagerly said yes.

It was at said charity event that she met Finn.

The party had mostly been a bust. No one was talking to her, she lost out on multiple bids, and this asshole named Roan who she had met in art school literally stole a potential client right from under her nose. Despite her earlier excitement about the trip she was beginning to wish she had stayed home.

That’s when she saw him coming from across the room and her stomach dropped. He was handsome in his perfectly tailored suit that was at odds with his floppy hair. Clarke couldn’t help blushing a bit when he smiled at her.

“Hi there,” he said, “I’m Finn. You’re here for the SAM, right?”

“Yeah,” she replied, holding out her hand to shake, “I’m Clarke Griffin. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Finn Collins, based out of The Getty as of last month. I’m sorry if this is too forward but can I get you a drink?”

She went home with him that night. Before the end of her trip, he had taken her to dinner twice, his museum and another he liked, and they had gone on the carousel at the Santa Monica pier. She liked him, she couldn’t help it.

She knew long distance could be difficult but they did their best to make it work. She would spend one long weekend a month in LA and he would spend one in Seattle. They skyped most nights and texted all the time. The sex was great, the romance was fun, and he told her he loved her every day.

Her ex, Lexa, told her once that anything that seemed too good to be true probably was. Clarke wasn’t quite that pessimistic. However, this time Lexa had ended up being right.

The weekend of their anniversary Clarke knew they would both be too busy to meet with work at their respective museums so two weeks before, right after Thanksgiving, she decided to fly out to see him. It was supposed to be a happy surprise. When she slipped his spare key from the top of his doorframe into the lock and came into the house the last thing she expected was to find him balls deep in some, admittedly gorgeous, brunette he had pinned against the kitchen sink.

Clarke froze and the girl swore before Finn pulled back and turned around. Seeing Clarke, all the color drained from his face and Clarke bolted.

She vaguely knew he was calling after her but, seeing as he would have had to put pants on first, she figured that she had enough of a head start to get outside and flag down a taxi to take her to a hotel as close to the airport as possible. Preferably one that had a bar.

Which is how she ended up here, now on her fourth whiskey and glowering at anyone who tried to sit near her.

Instinctively, she knew she should be hurting, crying maybe. But she wasn’t. She thought she had loved him but instead of heartbreak, all she felt was betrayed.

Upon seeing his number pop up for the tenth time she denied it, blocked him, and turned her phone off for good measure. Fuck Finn Collins and fuck LA. She was leaving in the morning and, if she had her way, she would never be back in this god-forsaken city.

**********

Bellamy Blake fucking hated LA. Realistically, he realized it likely had less to do with the city itself than it did the fact that his baby sister was now moving there, away from him and with a guy he barely knew, to pursue a career that was dangerous. He knew that she would be a wonderful stunt woman but it was hard enough being protective of his sister when they lived close together. Now they wouldn’t even be in the same state. She was only nineteen after all! What did she know about making good decisions?

As for the boyfriend, Lincoln, he was a stunt man as well and built like an ox and had too many tattoos for Bellamy’s liking. The truth was, though, he was good for her. Where Octavia was all fire and sharp edges, Lincoln was surprisingly calm and soft. It was clear he adored her and could protect her. That didn’t mean Bellamy had to like it.

Which is how he found himself in LA, having driven the U-haul down from Arkadia with everything she owned piled in the back. When he pulled up to the small duplex they had rented Bellamy had to physically stop himself from commenting. 

“Let me guess,” Octavia said, rolling her eyes, “the neighborhood isn’t safe enough. There isn’t enough security, the freeway is too far away and the main boulevard is too close, the area looks old and dirty. Take your pick, big brother.”

Bellamy scowled and cuffed her on the arm. “I wasn’t going to say that,” he said, “although none of it’s wrong. I was just going to ask if you’re sure you will be happy here?”

Octavia softened at that and hugged her brother. “I am.”

Lincoln helped them unload everything and left to take the U-haul back to the closest center.

Bellamy came in and looked at their place with its multi-color walls, 1970’s orange shag carpet, and Edison lights strung across their small yard. It wasn’t much but who was he to judge? They had never had much to call their own. He wasn’t about to criticize the first thing that had ever been hers.

“It’s nice, O.”

She snorted. “It’s ugly as fuck and you know it. But with a little work, some paint, and some personal touches it will be home I hope.”

“Home will always be Arkadia,” he told her and she rolled her eyes, “but this could be a decent second.”

When Lincoln got back he took them all to a local Vietnamese place with, admittedly, pretty fucking amazing phở. The conversation was awkward and stalled a lot but his sister did look happier than she had in a while so he decided to let go.

They offered to let him crash on their couch for the night but he cited his early flight as an excuse to leave. If they saw through it they didn’t say. The truth was he just needed to get away from them. He played nice as long as he could but now he just needed a stiff drink before bed and then he could leave LA behind. He knew he would have to be back eventually to visit but he hoped to persuade his sister, and by extension her boyfriend, back to Arkadia first.

Anything to put off coming back to this city any sooner than he had to.

So that’s how he found himself at the Embassy Suites near LAX. He would have been fine at a Motel 6 or something. But he really did need that drink and, seeing as it was smarter to get drunk in the hotel he was actually staying at instead of risking getting lost while wasted, he decided this hotel would do. Besides, his last book had sold well enough that he could afford it.

The bartender was fit and tan with teeth so white they practically glowed. Bellamy ordered an old fashioned and the guy, Atom apparently, felt the need to tell him his life story. Small town, here to be an actor, three auditions this week. Bellamy just nodded along, barely paying attention.

It wasn’t long before a hurricane of a woman stormed up to the bar, blonde curls flying behind her as she came, slamming her purse on the bar hard enough to rattle the nearby glasses.

“Whiskey, neat, whatever is cheapest,” she told Atom.

The bartender tried his charm on her as well but a steely glare had him happily receding to the other end of the bar where some blonde woman in a too-tight dress was trying to talk him up. Bellamy smiled into his drink.

As the night wore on Bellamy stayed put. O had posted a picture in front of her door with the caption “home” and he tried his best not to take it as an insult. The truth was, she didn’t need him anymore.

He sighed deeply and downed his glass.

Waiting for a refill, he realized the bar had gotten pretty empty. The angry blonde to his left had already scared off anyone willing to try to talk to her, the bartender had switched to a quiet girl named Fox, and the only other patrons was a man on his laptop in the corner who had been nursing the same beer for at least an hour.

He figured that was probably his queue to head up to his room. Maybe rent some porn or something. He snorted and then laughed. Yeah, like he was going to do that.

Something about the sound must have startled the woman because she jumped a bit as if forgetting she wasn’t alone. He knew the feeling

“Sorry about that,” Bellamy told her. “Got lost in my own head and kinda forgot you were sitting there.”

The woman raised an eyebrow and her lips quirked slightly at the edges. “Does that mean you were aware of me before?”

“Well,” he smirked, leaning against the bar beside her, “you’re kinda hard to miss. A gorgeous woman alone at a bar scaring everyone away? Makes you stand out a bit, yeah.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I guess I have been scaring people, haven’t I.”

“Only a little,” he teased. Taking a risk, he sat down beside her. “I’m Bellamy. And if you want to tell me to fuck off I will. But you kind of look like you could use another drink.”

She looked down, eyes wide. She must not have realized her glass was empty. Looking up at him, she gave him a once over. He did his best not to squirm. Finally, she smiled and shrugged. “Why not, Bellamy. But you’re paying.”

**********

Bellamy was definitely a surprise. For one, he was built like an actual Greek god. With bronze skin that didn’t come from a booth and tousled curls falling over a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, she itched to draw him. And she itched to touch him.

Before he had come over she had been debating the merits of another drink or a long bath. Now she was contemplating both, preferably with him.

It had been a long time since she had been able to give in to her own lust. With Finn so far away, the nights were cold and lonely more than they weren’t. At least they had been for her, clearly not for him. And while it certainly hadn’t been her plan going into the evening, now she couldn’t think of anything she would rather do than the man in front of her.

So they ordered their drinks and made small talk.

He was from a small town up North and was here helping his sister move in. She told him she worked at a museum in Seattle but wasn’t sure she liked it. He admitted that he wrote books that he thought people would enjoy not ones that spoke to his soul. She even told him about Finn, though she refused to call him anything other than douche.

“So moral of the story,” Clarke said, words a bit sloshy, as she leaned too far into his space, “long-distance relationships are a fucking joke and men are trash.”

“Hey,” he said, a hand on her thigh rubbing slow circles just below the fabric of her dress, “just because that dude was a dumbass who didn’t know what he had to lose doesn’t mean we all would be.”

Clarke hummed and pushed closer, able to feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. “So, Bellamy Blake, are you going to show me how a guy like you could treat me better?”

He groaned as she palmed him over his pants, no longer caring they were still technically in public. She grinned triumphantly at how hard he already was. He let her nip his earlobe before he pulled back.

“Look,” he said, hoping his tone didn’t betray how little he wanted to say these words, “you are the most gorgeous woman I have seen in a long time. I would absolutely love to go upstairs right now and use every moment between now and whichever of us flys or first to worship you the way you deserve.”

“Then don’t say no,” she whispered, lips just brushing his.

“It’s just,” he explained, running a hand through his hair and then he sighed. “Here’s the thing, one, you are drunk and that doesn’t seem right. Two, we are never going to see each other again and I’m not much for one-night stands. Three, you just got your heartbroken. I doubt you’re thinking very clearly.”

“Let me stop you for one moment,” she said, firm but still soft, fingers weaving through his curls as she brought their bodies together. “One, I’m tipsy, not drunk. Two, I feel betrayed because my boyfriend is a lying, cheating, scumbag. But I would hardly say what I’m feeling right now is heartbreak. And three, they always say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

Clarke leaned over and drained the last of her drink before meeting his gaze. “So if you don’t want to I will respect that and walk away now. But if it’s just your concern for me, I’m a big girl. I’ll be alright. And honestly, I just really want to go home having had you be the last person inside me as opposed to the cheating loser I just walked away from. Your choice.”

Bellamy gripped her waist a moment and then crashed his lips into hers. She grinned into the kiss and pulled him closer, licking the last of the bitter drink from his lips.

They settled up their final tabs and made their way to the elevator. The second the doors had shut, his hand was between her legs. She wasn’t even embarrassed at the moan that escaped her lips.

“Fuck you’re so wet for me already,” he told her before biting her lip.

“And you are rock hard for me,” she demurred, grabbing his cock firmly.

“God of course I am,” he told her. “Have you seen you? I’m going to touch every inch of you, give you as much pleasure as you can handle, and make you forget that other guy even existed.”

“Is that a promise?” She let out a shaky breath as the elevator dinged for her floor.

He kissed her again and again as they made their way down the hall. Between laughs and trying to shush the other, they did manage to get inside his room.

The door was barely locked before he was on her. With both of her wrists in one hand, he pushed her against the door firmly and dove his other hand back between her legs.

“God you’re sexy,” he said. “Can you spread your legs for me a bit?”

Clarke nodded and did as she was told and he wasted no time pushing aside her panties and plunging two fingers inside her with his thumb on her clit. “Oh god!”

“That’s right,” he whispered, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. I want to know everything you like, every way to make you writhe for me. Do you want that?”

“Please,” she begged.

His broad thumb was just a little rough, creating delicious friction that had her falling apart before she could believe it. She began to twist and shake against his hand, rocking against it as her climax grew. It had been so long since someone had touched her, especially like this. It wouldn’t take long.

“God that’s so good,” he told her, watching his own hand pump beneath her hiked up dress. “Do you want to come for me?”

“Fuck yes,” she panted, “I want to come so bad.”

“Then come,” he demanded, increasing his pace to match her erratic thrusts.

His words acted like magic and she immediately came on his hand, thrusting into it as her moans filled the room. He stroked her gently as she came down but never stopped touching her.

Just as she was beginning to think he would stop, he pulled back and looked at her, smirking.

“Let’s see how many more of those we can get, shall we?”

And with that, he picked her up and took her to the bedroom.

She kissed her way along his neck as they went and scraped her nails along his scalp. He moaned into the touch and she could see his rock hard erection straining against his jeans after he laid her down on the bed. She bit her lip.

“So princess,” he smirked, catching her staring at his impressive bulge, “wanna help me with that?”

Clarke grinned at him seductively, ready to wipe that smirk right off his face. “Happily.”

As she came to her knees at the end of the bed in front of him, she ran her hands along the solid planes of his chest. One by one she popped the buttons of his shirt, kissing her way along the skin she exposed. His hands tangled into her hair as she ran her nails lightly down his back.

“You can be as rough as you want,” he told her huskily. “I don’t hurt easily.”

Biting the tip of her tongue she smiled up at him before digging her nails in a bit harder, making him groan. She wasted no time, then, getting her fingers into the belt loops of his jeans, eyes locked with his, before pulling them down to pool at his feet. He wasn’t wearing boxers and the sight of him made wetness begin to build once again between her legs.

Before he could react, she took him into her mouth in one practiced motion. His resounding moan and the fingers gripping her shoulder made her thankful for her lack of gag reflex.

This was going to be fun.

**********

When she took him in her mouth, he almost came on the spot.

It had been an embarrassingly long time since had last gotten head and the sight of him sinking into her mouth was incredible. She clearly knew what she was doing and he was more than happy to let her take the lead.

When she pulled back a moment later, she didn’t go far, letting her hand lazily trace the same path her mouth had just made. She smiled at him sweetly. “Come lay down.”

He did as she was told and she wasted no time getting her mouth back on him.

As her tongue licked swirls around his head, her hand just barely was able to encircle his cock, pumping firmly. He let out a low moan watching as she sunk her mouth on him again. Each time she came up she would suck lightly and her tongue would trace a line along his shaft. As her mouth and hand worked in time, she brought him to the edge and then back.

It was like she could tell where she had him at any moment. Just when he would feel the need to warn her, she would back off, letting her fingers dance lightly on his inner thigh or her tongue gently lap his tip. Then, just when he would feel calm again, she would pull him deep in her throat making him cry out.

It was heaven and she was a goddess. He wanted to worship at her feet.

Eventually, she pulled back, a satisfied smile on her face. He was teetering close to the edge and god did he want to be inside her. 

Standing, she locked eyes with him as she pulled the straps of her dress down before letting the garment fall to the floor. Her bra and underwear were quick to follow and he nearly couldn’t breathe at the first sight of her naked before him.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, making her blush.

She regained her composure quickly and then slowly crawled up his body, letting her breasts graze his body as she went. When her lips finally met his, he couldn’t stop a filthy moan from escaping. He pulled her in tighter.

“Condom?” Bellamy asked, realizing he definitely didn’t have one. He didn’t exactly come to California expecting this.

She laughed lightly and nodded. When she got up to go to her purse he just watched her. His eyes trailed over every inch of her creamy skin and he felt his cock twitch, even more turned on. “You’re beautiful.”

Her pink blush spread over her chest and it was somehow both adorable and sexy. She just rolled her eyes before coming back to straddle him. The condom was on in one seamless move and then she was kissing him, hard and fast.

She sunk down on his length and they both moaned. She was so fucking tight, there was no way she was going to last long.

After taking a moment to adjust, she began rocking. Her movements started slow but deep as she took all of him in. As she moved, her hand went to her hair and her eyes fluttered shut. He let his hands grip her hips, urging her harder and faster.

It didn’t take long for her movements to speed up, making her incredible tits bounce. He couldn’t help letting his hands wander to them, squeezing her nipples making her movements stutter and her hands find his chest.

“Oh god,” she said, fucking him harder.

“That’s a good girl,” Bellamy replied. “Make yourself feel good. I want you to come apart on my dick. Take me as hard as you want, baby.”

“Yes,” she said, movements punctuating her words. “Fuck, yes. Bellamy, god.”

Bellamy could feel his release coming and he tightened up as much as possible, determined she finish once more before he could. “Come on. Come for me one more time.”

His fingers found her clit, rubbing furiously, as her volume reached a peak. She thrust hard against his hand making him go deeper than he thought possible. Finally, she let out a scream, tossing her head back as she rapidly rode out her orgasm on him.

He flipped them, driving into her as hard as he could. It barely took thirty seconds before he was tumbling over the edge and collapsing against her chest.

Her nails trailed lightly over his scalp as they both caught their breath. Her heartbeat was soothing as he came down. When he finally pulled out and rolled onto his back, she wasted no time propping herself on his chest and smiling.

“That was amazing,” she told him. “But I could use a shower now. Wanna join me?”

Bellamy grinned at her. “Absolutely.”

Getting out of bed, she squealed when he picked her up and carried her to the bathroom, both of them laughing. They kissed languidly as the water heated and the room filled with steam.

They washed each other’s bodies and she washed her hair. Her lips were a bit swollen and red and he loved knowing that was from him. As her hands trailed lazily over his back and sides, back against the shower wall, he kneaded her breasts lightly making her whimper.

He knew his cock was spent but it still twitched appreciatively at the sound. He flipped her around and got his hand between her legs again, he couldn’t help himself. Her stuttered moans reverberated off the tile shower ad he fingered her lazily.

He pressed his body against hers, trapping her against the wall. He was slow with her this time, letting his fingers trail in slow circles on her clit or up and down over her folds. With how sensitive she was it didn’t take long before her legs were shaking and she was whispering his name like a prayer.

When they were done they both bundled in towels before heading back for the main room. He wasn’t sure what would happen next and, if her silence was any indication, neither did she. They were both clearly not eager for the night to end so he simply crawled into the bed and held the sheet up in invitation. She smiled and turned out the light before she joined him, curling up into his side.

“What time’s your flight tomorrow?” she asked quietly, breaking the stillness of the room.

“One or so I think,” he said, carding his fingers through her still-damp hair. “You?”

“I got an early one at nine,” she hummed.

“Well stay as long as you like,” he told her before he could think better of it.

She stiffened briefly but then shrugged. “Why not? Beats sleeping alone.”

“Sounds good to me.” Bellamy smiled and pulled her closer, he had never been more comfortable in his life. “Sweet dreams, princess.”

She giggled and kissed his chest lightly, breaths already beginning to even out. “Goodnight Bellamy.”

The next morning, he woke up slowly. The night before came back to him in pieces. He wasn’t surprised to find an empty, cold bed beside him. It was still disappointing though.

It had easily been the best sex of his life. Although, he supposed, not having to worry about feelings or repercussions probably helped. But there was also just something about her.

Getting up to pee, he realized he had about two hours until he should head over to the airport. He groaned at the thought of the very empty house waiting for him at home. His brain began its to-do list for the day and the week but in the bathroom, he had to pause. When he looked in the mirror, however, he couldn’t help smiling as he shook his head.

There, in the blood-red lipstick she had been wearing the night before, was the word thanks and a heart. It was then that it finally hit him.

The best night of his life and she never even gave him her name.

**********

As Clarke looked out the window of the plane as it made its descent to Seattle, she couldn’t help thinking about Bellamy. As if her thoughts hadn’t kept going back to him since she left.

When she woke in his arms, him already hard against the small of her back, she honestly considered missing her flight. But she knew she had to leave things where they were. By slipping out before he could wake up they could part with good memories and plenty of spank bank material.

If she stayed they would have to decide what it meant. Do they exchange numbers? Do they add each other on social media? No, this was easier.

Regardless, the night before notwithstanding, she was very ready to give up on men for a while. It was time to focus on her career and self-care and cultivating a life outside of interstate visits and skype calls. Bellamy would be an incredible memory and the one bright spot when she thought about LA.

After she disembarked and grabbed her bag, she headed out to wait for her uber. Flipping the service back on her phone she realized she had a missed call and voicemail from a number she didn’t know. Intrigued, she hit play.

_Hey there. Fuck. That was awkward. Ok, hi. My name is Raven. Look, you don’t know me but… we should talk._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this intro! There is definitely more to this story. Can't wait to show you what comes next!


End file.
